Facade
by Haret5
Summary: What if everything was as it seemed? An AU.
1. H

Hiro can see half the people faking.

A smile.  
>Another one.<br>A third, fourth, fifth... more damn smiles.

Why are they happy? Why do they have the right to grin when Tadashi is dead?

In a kitchen corner there are some more disgusting smilers who can not quite keep solemn faces. And they are joking. Joking. Joking about bets they made, like how Tadashi would never get a girlfriend. How can they make light of his death? Why they cushion the blow when he is crushed by sorrow?

By the table, there are more people who have no right to be here. The ones filling their plates with pastries and cheeses, those who skipped the burial and came to the wake just for some food.

Then there are the many near the couch, the worst of the whole lot. The ones that Hiro had never seen before today, liars. They claim that have been Tadashi's friends but are unable to pronounce his name correctly and a third of the time can not even recall it. Their cackles can be heard from the staircase.

No. The ones who are faking sadness are the worst. The ones who have been mentally killing Tadashi for years. They keep their heads low, while grinning the widest. They act as if their tears are that of sadness over death instead of relief of having one less person to compete with. These are the people who should have burned in his brother's place.

No. No. The worst are those who keep insisting Tadashi is alive, that he lives in our hearts as long as we remember him.

Tadashi has a pulse rate of zero and is six feet below.  
>Tadashi is dead.<p>

To hell with them.  
>The pretenders.<br>Everyone.

The whole world should just burn.


	2. C

In hindsight, it, the fire, was an obvious result. Too many machines and inventions whirling at once. Too many rushed wiring jobs. Too many extension cords.

Odd, the room brimmed with brilliant minds and no one gave caution a second thought.

Crackle.  
>No one noticed.<br>Crackle.  
>No one cared.<br>Crackle.  
>It was too late.<br>Crackle.  
>The carpet caught fire.<p>

The masses were lucky, for they had exited the building after the last invitation was given. The masses were blessed for they had escaped the fire.

The ancient mind stumbled across the floor, towards the exits. Towards refuge from the flames. Smoke entered Callaghan's old lungs. They constantly coughed, trying to remove the dark gray air. With every step came two heaves. With every passing second, his eyes and thoughts slowly blurred.

He fell.

He groped a counter for support. He did not have the strength to lift himself. He kept trying anyway.

He could not die now.

He could not die before Krei's fall.

With every ounce of his strength poured into his arms he managed to get on his feet. He leaned on the counter for support and continued to inch towards the exit. Along the way his left hand landed on something thin. He let out a scream of pain. He found Hiro's headband.

Maybe he could shield himself.  
>Maybe he could outlast the flames<br>Maybe he could live to see, to _give_, Krei get his justice.

His last plan floated into his mind. Soon he could no longer see the fire, only the black metal coating of the microbots.

The heat seethed through the machinations and carbon monoxide slipped through the tiniest cracks of his barrier.

His head began to clear somewhat, he knew his life would be snuffed out before the fire, that he was only biding time. A few tears started to flow.

He knew he could never kill Krei.  
>He could never even touch a hair on Krei's smirking head.<br>He could never bring fear to that cheapskate's mind.  
>He could never cause Krei pain even close to what he had felt.<p>

Krei would live on unpunished.  
>Callaghan could never make him crumble.<br>Callaghan could not even be there to see him fall.

The fire grew and slowly melted the microbots. Metal dripped upon Callaghan's skin, scalding him. His breathing worsened again. Shortly afterwards he vomited.

Burning skin, short breath, pains in his chest. This was nothing compared to her death. This was nothing compared to Krei getting away scot-free.

As a _man of science_ knew he would never see her again.  
>He would never be able to avenge her.<br>His precious girl.  
>His precious daughter.<br>His precious Abigail.

Eventually he allowed himself to cry.

Then his soul left the fire.


End file.
